Malagrouse PC

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Heading somewhere, maybe up to the Castle

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Holiday Goth

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Pack up stop

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Le Grand enfant

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My eyes mon!

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Beak table

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These are crap

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Beak down

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Old man stretches

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Jaz table

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Internets

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Shee and Jere

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Rave van, non rave.

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Castle Wall

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Emotional outlook

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I was standing on the wrong bloody side!

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Le grand enfant

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Beach front

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iHippy

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Roll down from the park

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Emo'd out

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Don't drop the baby

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Professional

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Street gap wave

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Dry canal bed

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Emotional beers

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Essentials

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Dads on tour

I had one of the worst culinary experiences in my life in Malaga.

I know Spain is bad for food (apart from cured meats, I guess, if you are that way inclined) but they really took it to the next level with the abominations served up on our last day. Usually the lack of pictures and translations on a menu is a sign that the place is decent, and after a round of bread and potatoes it was all going rather well, but the tepid soft mush they brought out as a main was like a living hell. It’s like the Spanish have seen food, know what it looks like, and have rough idea of how to make it; put stuff together and apply heat, right? Well, no, sorry Pablo, there is a bit more to it than that.

Tepid beige food horrors aside, Malaga, or Malagrouse as we named it, was pretty bloody good, and a group of middle aged dads made the most of it on an early-in-the-year riding trip. I can’t imagine another group of BMXers on a trip anywhere going to bed early so they can get up feeling near ok and ride to the best of their, albeit somewhat limited, abilities.

Im not sure the size of Malaga, I’m sure a quick Google/Wiki hunt could tell me all the facts I need and I could litter them through this text as if I was some sort of Spanish city expert, but I won’t, this isn’t a magazine and I am not getting paid to hit a word count.

I will however point out it’s a lot cleaner and less tourism centric than Barca, and it has a castle sitting on top of a hill overlooking the entire town which is perfect for a hike up to to enjoy a castle beer or two before hill bombing down into the midst of Spain’s seemingly weekly Catholic celebrations. I think it was a combination of these factors, minus the god awful food, that lead the trips goth, Kristopher Shee, to declare excitedly in a voice akin to PJ from Byker grove telling Jeff Mon he has been blinded – “I bloody love sunshine and having fun meeeeeeeeā€¦” If that isn’t enough of a gauge of how good Malaga, and Ruben’s park, is to visit then I don’t know what else could be.

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